Randall moves into the room and goes into total defense. "Wow, you are persistent tonight. Care to know how the other seven fools died? Or would you rather surrender without knowing?"
Fíriel enters the kitchen too, her dagger held up defensively as she tries to edge her way behind the enemies.
The half-orc targeted by Antal's spell shrieks loudly and goes running out toward the game room.
The one in front of Randall raises one eyebrow and snarls. "I'm sure you had a nice distraction while we were killing your boss, didn't you, squirt? Now it's your turn. Now you get to die."
Seeing that two of the halflings are prepared to defend themselves, he darts across the room and jabs at Antal.
The human grins and steps behind Fíriel with a swing of his sword, but the little halfling dodges nimbly.
Were-Njord continues to lope towards the kitchen. He ignores the fleeing goon.
Randall moves up to flank the human and strikes.
Fíriel grins at Randall and coordinates her strike with his to maximize the enemy's distraction.
Jametor and Swiftwing step further back, and Jametor begins chanting slowly and softly while pulling out a small bag and a candle.
Swiftwing squawks loudly before settling on Jametor's shoulder.
Antal steps back and tries to scare off the other big half-orc, but the other fights it off.
He roars angrily and steps forward to swing two rock-hard fists at the halfling.
The half-orc affected by Antal's spell comes hurrying back in, looking ashamed of himself. The human glances quickly between Randall and Fíriel as if sizing them up, then dodges to the side and swings his sword at Randall.
Still flopping lewdly and now covered in dark fur, Were-Njord rushes into the kitchen with his sword raised high.
Spotting the intruders threatening his pack, the massive beast slashes at the nearest attacker with deadly force.
Jametor finishes the Summons and a celestial dog appears behind Edger giving both the dog and Randall flanking positions.
ETA:
Jametor and Swiftwing take a 5 foot step. And Jametor pulls out a scroll.
Randall steps 5' down and goes into total defense.
Antal reaches out and tries to touch the big half-orc, but the half-orc dodges and Antal decides it'd be wise to step away.
The quick, burly half-orc yells loudly, "The rest of you, get in here now! Kill the big ugly one!"
His two cohorts charge recklessly forward to obey, though the human tries to dodge out of Fíriel's way as he goes.
All three attack Njord.
Jasker goes down as he finishes swinging. Another half-orc comes running in from the direction of the scullery, swinging his longsword at the first thing he sees.
The small halfling stabs angrily at the biggest enemy.
The stab bites deep, but Jasker manages to remain standing.
Were-Njord barely registers as another deep cut opens in his thick furry hide. He gives a roar of victory as his first victim succumbs to his wounds.
Spinning to attack the next threat to his pack, the bestial Ulfen slashes again.
Jametor opens his scroll and reads the contents and casts a Grease spell with the upper right corner under the new thug appearing in the door.
The little guy strikes out at the ugly mucker.
The next half-orc is nearly gutted by Njord's vulpine anger and Antal's biting cold, and the human looks distinctly worried.
The newly-arrived half-orc keeps his footing.
Fíriel moves up behind the human and stabs at his kidney, but her aim is off and the dagger scrapes harmlessly off his armor.
Still using total defense, Randall tumbles in behind the human to give Njord a flanking bonus.
The bleeding, frozen half-orc swings at Njord one last time, knowing his strength won't hold out long, but his arm is too weak and the blow never connects. He slumps to the ground, dead.
The human glances between the two, but remembering his boss' final order, he stabs at the Ulfen as well.
The three new arrivals come rushing into the room, slipping and trying to keep their balance on the grease.
The half-orc and one of the humans go down in their haste, though they stand right back up and glare at Jametor. The other makes it into the room and swings his sword at Fíriel.
Jametor pulls his wand off his belt and reaches out and tries to touch the human.
Randall tumbles around to the far side of the one that hit Njord but stays in total defense.
"Hey you! Drop that blade!" The strange short man points at Edger.
Were-Njord is cut again soiling his dark fur with more blood. The pain just drives him even further into a frenzy.
Edger's intestines spill over Njord's sword, nearly wrenching it from the Ulfen's hand as the corpse falls over.
Fíriel stabs uselessly at the human in front of her.
The two others try again to enter the room. One of them yells, "He's cast something on Leavins! Get the little ones!"
The other responds, "Get 'em all!"
The half-orc makes his way through the greasy spot, then around the room carefully.
The other human darts forward and stands with sword drawn, looking menacing.
Jametor drinks another potion
Antal books it over to his now-quite-furry friend, drawing the wand from his belt, with all intention to help his friend get some healin'.
Randall holds his position and total defense. "I can't believe you guys haven't figured it out yet. You really think the five of us laid waste to your entire crew? Three halflings? Beware what you can't see. Not that it will help you to know they are there." He gestures toward the unoccupied corner of the room.